


The Best Summer Forever

by AmityRavenclawElf



Series: Yandere Characters [1]
Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: College Student Phineas, F/M, Female Reader, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, POC Reader, Phineas Likes Attention, Phineas Likes Praise, Possessive Behavior, Yandere Phineas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 04:58:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15834207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmityRavenclawElf/pseuds/AmityRavenclawElf
Summary: You meet Phineas Flynn in college.You find him brilliant, and exciting, and full of ideas. He finds you fun, witty, beautiful, refreshingly open-minded, and...worth keeping.Because there's no way that someone as wildly ambitious as Phineas was grew up normal.





	The Best Summer Forever

You were moving into your college dorm when you met him.

It was not only hot out, but also _humid_ , as the summer came to a watery close, and it was probably going to rain soon. It was a race against the weather to transport every item from the car to the sixth floor; this was only your second trip up, and you were trying to maneuver the dolly with your mini-fridge and garment bag of formalwear onto an elevator with one hand whilst pulling a suitcase with the other and shooting apologetic glances to the people trying to get on behind you.

Eventually, you surrendered, "I'll just take the next elevator," and moved the stubborn dolly aside so the others could board. (Their faces were at least sympathetic as the doors closed.) You pressed the button to call a new elevator, once that one left without you.

"You almost had it in, that last time," a voice said behind you.

You turned and saw a lean, pale boy with a somewhat pointy face and a shock of red hair. He had a lanyard on identifying him as one of the male students who volunteered (or were forced by some club or something; you supposed you didn't really know) to help the other students move in, but he wasn't wearing the typical school spirit shirt; instead, he had opted for something striped and brightly-colored. Even right off the bat, you noticed that there was a certain brightness to his eyes that made it seem like he was taking information in at a different level than most people, and a sort of stagnant intensity to him in general, to the way he moved his hands, that made it seem like he was the sort of person who had to always be _doing_ something.

"I was in people's way," you answered lightly. "It wasn't a big enough deal to keep wasting time. I'll give it another go when this one comes." You glanced up at the little screens above the elevators and saw that none of them were close, and two out of four weren't moving. "Or... _if_ this one comes?"

"Yeah, the elevators are especially slow today," he said. "I told the school I could make them faster, but they said that would be a contracting issue." From his tone, and the way that he idly scratched his head afterward, he could have been a little kid saying 'My parents said I can't have ice cream'. Then he smirked in your direction. "Better to ask forgiveness than permission, is the lesson there."

"You think fixing an elevator without permission wouldn't get you mega-expelled?" you replied to the crazy probably-Engineering-major.

His eyebrows went into a slight frown, as if he legitimately hadn't even _thought_ about consequences for making mechanical renovations to a school-owned building. "It might make me lose my scholarship," he mused, uncertain.

"Maybe a little," you agreed emphatically, searching his face for any sign that he knew that was an understatement.

Nothing of the sort. He only seemed to be thinking very deeply. "The summers feel like they've gotten shorter," he muttered.

"They do," you agreed.

"What did you use to do?" he asked, suddenly focused on you again.

"What?"

"When you were a kid. What did you do for the summer?" Somehow, he asked this small talk question like it wasn't a small talk question. But then, people who asked those kinds of things were normally just looking for a lead-in to talk about themselves once you were done.

"I swam," you answered concisely. "I read a lot of books."

"Did it fulfill you?" he asked, which was just not something one said while waiting for an elevator.

"Um, I guess," you replied. "I mean, I was a kid; if I had pizza and fries at the same time, it was the best day ever." You laughed mildly.

He nodded, his eyes unfocusing, and a corner of his mouth rose as if a smile was conquering the battleground of his face very slowly. "Best day ever, yeah."

There was a ding, as the elevator arrived, which broke him from his ponderings. You expected him to take the dolly and get it into the elevator for you, but instead his face brightened, and he said, "There we go! Here's your chance."

Wow, he was a bad moving assistant.

He watched you work the dolly into the tiny chamber more successfully. (You used both hands, this time, leaving your suitcase momentarily unattended.) It was like he was spectating a sport. Only once the dolly was _in_ the elevator did he ask, "Do you have more stuff to move?"

 _"Yes,"_ you answered miserably, grabbing the suitcase and pulling it in with you. "So much more."

"I can get it for you. What car is it in, and what's your room number?"

You told him; he had to throw out an arm to keep the elevator door from closing between you while you did so. "What's your name?" you asked when you were done.

He was already taking off, apparently having spontaneously become enthusiastic about helping, but he called over his shoulder, "Phineas Flynn!"

You moved your fridge into the room, called the lobby about how your cable wasn't working, put away the clothes from your suitcase, called the lobby again because something was wrong with your sink, and it didn't occur to you that Phineas was taking a long time to bring the rest of your stuff up until you heard the pouring rain.

You murmured your exasperation, then wondered where that gangly redhead had gone. Maybe he had gotten distracted; you wouldn't put it past him to end up in weird conversations with someone else in the lobby and forget about you.

You sat back on the bed, tired and resigned to the fact that you couldn't do anything, in the rain.

About fifteen minutes later, when you were close to napping, Phineas sprinted into the room, dripping wet. "I did it!" he exclaimed.

There was a moment when you couldn't say anything, because you were startled and wondering if maybe he was insane; he wasn't carrying any bags, so what could he have done? You asked him that.

"Look!" He ran past you to open the blinds of your window.

"Aren't you cold?" you asked before you saw what was outside the window. "WHOA."

"A little cold," he answered casually. "Mostly just wet."

"What did you...?!" You dropped from the bed and ran up to look more closely. It wasn't a trick; your car was right outside the window. _On the **sixth** floor!_ "How did you do that?"

"I built a Ferris wheel for cars," Phineas said excitedly.

"You...But..." You did a double-take, trying to reconcile with a reality that couldn't be real. "That wasn't there, when I walked into this building."

"Well, yeah; I just built it."

"But it's only been, like, an hour."

"And forty-seven minutes. Not to be braggadocious, but I'm pretty good at networking, so I can get building supplies in under two minutes, most days." He had such an easy smile. "I beat my own time, though; my last Ferris wheel took two hours and fourteen minutes, and that one wasn't even for cars."

While you were still processing, Phineas opened the window (causing rain to splatter the floor, but that wasn't an immediate priority), reached _out_ the window, and started hauling bags out of the trunk of your car.

"So...So you built a car Ferris wheel to get my bags into my room?"

"Yep." Phineas paused to look at you, with such glee that you felt the need to detour:

"That's cool, by the way; great job." (His smile impossibly brightened.) "But..." You had been about to say that he didn't have to build anything, for this task, but you decided against it, because looking at this weird, soaking wet guy who was so excited about the Ferris wheel he built gave you an unnamed pleasant feeling. "You could have built a crane," you said instead. "Or rigged a pulley system for just the luggage. Why a Ferris wheel?"

Phineas's face opened up; where it had been eager and bright and plainly optimistic before, where he had been basking in his own accomplishment, now he was looking at _you_. And it seemed bizarrely that he liked what he saw. "I usually think of fun options instead of convenient ones," he confessed unabashedly. "What's your name?"

"Oh! Right." You introduced yourself, putting out a hand to shake his. There were raindrops on your hand when you pulled away.

That was the day Phineas Flynn helped you move in.

It was also the day he learned your name, room number, and car.

\--------

It wasn't rare for Phineas to meet someone who he wanted to meet again. He had always been good at making friends- even here, far away from Danville, where nobody knew him from childhood. So it wasn't weird, when he went to his dorm that night, that he was thinking about the next time he saw you. You were fun; it made sense to want to be around you.

It _was_ rare, however, for Phineas to meet someone who he wanted to _learn_. He loved learning things. Mostly how to _do_ things; there was never a task or trade that he didn't want to learn. But learning people had never been much of a priority. He hadn't even actively tried to learn Ferb; they had just grown together naturally.

But for some reason, he wanted to learn you. His mind kept pointing out to him your inconsistencies, the things you loved but hated, and kept retaining the random things you casually mentioned to him. He wanted to know so much.

And it made him happy when you were curious about _him_ , too. You seemed to focus a lot on _why_ he did things, which was something he never really thought about. When pressed to answer, though, he supposed that it boiled down to _Because I want to know that I can; because I want to **show** that I can; and because I want to see what happens if I do._ It seemed to intrigue you.

In the week between moving in and classes starting, twice he visited your dorm room to ask if you wanted to go swimming in the campus pool. The first time, it was clear that he woke you up (He was an early riser.), but you were excited to go along anyway. The second time, you were already awake when he knocked on your door, but the answer was no.

"Sorry; I _just_ washed my hair," you said.

"You can wash it again after," he suggested, half-laughing.

You gave him a tired look as if he couldn't hope to understand, pointed at your head, and asked, "Do you know how long it takes to do all this?"

He looked. Your braided style was elaborate, but he didn't really have a frame of reference for how long it had taken. "I guess I _don't_ know," he said, and rather than be bummed about this, he was excited over a new thing to study and learn. "I've made machines for hair growth and styling, but I've never done something like _that."_

If you had known him better, you wouldn't have been surprised when the next day he presented you with a machine to wash and braid your hair in under five minutes. It excited you as much as it did him, which was the best form of validation and felt, to Phineas, like sprouting wings. He _needed_ people to be excited by his achievements, for them to react. And even more, he liked making _you_ react. It was that face. Those eyes.

Then the next day, surprisingly, you gave him a list of adjustments to make. Well, you started off with just one casual suggestion, but when he asked if there were more, there _were_. And there was also very specific positive feedback, which was new for him; normally he just got blanket responses, not exact breakdowns of the pros and cons of his devices.

You were so easy to listen to.

And it was interesting to not be _expected_ to always have great ideas.

If you'd known him better, you wouldn't have been surprised when it became normal for him to arrive at your dorm room early in the morning and ask, "So, what are we doing today?"

You listed off the classes you had, the things you needed to study for, the activities you hoped to drop in on. He accompanied you to all of them; he had whipped up faster ways of getting around campus than just walking.

On the first two days of the school year, he learned your class schedule for the semester.

\--------

You didn't take long to derive that Phineas Flynn was a genius. He did incredible things with science without breaking a sweat; you even started to believe his more ridiculous stories. Maybe he _had_ been through time, and around the world before the sun set, and to another dimension. The stuff he pulled off in everyday life was already pretty weird, and he never seemed to lie.

Which eventually made you start to ask him: Why not apply these skills to world-saving things?

"I did once," he said. "I was a superhero. I was called 'The Beak'."

"No, I mean 'world-saving' like...Wait, 'The Beak'?" (You two went on a tangent about that before you were able to get back on track.) "I meant 'world-saving' like, help with pollution, or world hunger, or something like that."

He looked at you blankly.

It shortly became clear to you what the answer was: He didn't do it because it didn't sound fun. That was one of his more eerie qualities; unfun things, like big picture, in-no-way-a-game innovations and consequences for his actions, were cleanly off his radar. He didn't think in those terms, and he seemed fascinated that you _did_.

"You could improve water filtration in underserved areas," you suggested, among other things, but something about the way he was looking at you made you suspect that he was less thinking about your list of possibilities than enjoying how long your list was.

Despite having no interest in the more boring types of philanthropy, Phineas would make a new gadget or apparatus for someone at the slightest request, to solve the most trivial problems, sometimes in ways that couldn't possibly be safe but that somehow hadn't resulted in injury or casualty yet, _or_ in him being expelled.

And an apparent perk of his friendship was, you didn't even have to ask.

Somehow, he was always finding about about slight inconveniences in your life and solving them with science.

"Do you mean to tell me you can cure the common cold with a _tilt-a-whirl?!"_ you demanded one day, so amazed that it became exasperation.

Phineas grinned and scratched the back of his neck, seeming to take it _only_ as a compliment and not as an accusation. You hadn't given any lecture on using his 'powers', so to speak, for good since the first time, but now you were tempted to bring it up again. "Do you like it?" he asked softly.

"It looks amazing," you hastened to qualify; If he didn't receive high praise on these devices, Phineas became a maniac about fixing whatever could be wrong with them.

"Great!" he exclaimed, then ushered you onto the tilt-a-whirl and pressed 'START' before you could segue into how maybe lots of people would like to not catch colds.

He was very high-energy, but also very patient when you couldn't keep up.

He was _always_ patient.

Or...you thought he was.

But around the second month of the school year, you started to notice how he would sometimes push people away. Sometimes it was in mild ways: politely saying "That's actually for (Y/N)," when someone _else_ tried to enjoy his gifts to you, or calling, "No time! We've gotta go!" over his shoulder as he dragged you by hand away from whomever you'd been conversing with. It was funny and cute at first, when you thought he was just too excited to notice whether he was being rude. Nothing serious.

But then there were times when he seemed more transparently passive aggressive. Sometimes he just sort of stared oddly at people you were talking to, and when they stopped being able to ignore his staring (When they started taking more awkward pauses and glancing over at him confusedly), he would break into a grin and interject, "Well, it was nice talking to you."

He had been a good enough friend so far that you didn't want to make it an _issue_ , but you did comment, "You're kind of possessive."

Phineas made a face as if this was new information, then seemed to come to terms with it. "Yes. Yes I am."

That was something you both learned that day.

\--------

It was saddening, to Phineas, when the leaves started falling. "Why can't it be summer for _ever?"_ he asked, kicking at them with one of his feet. You had been in classes, both of you, for weeks now, but now the weather was getting colder, and the repetitive schedule and slow classes were starting to constrict him, as they always did around this time of year, with increasing severity as he grew older.

"Nothing lasts forever," you said, which made him want to tell you (again) about the day that time _did_ keep looping, but then he remembered that even that hadn't lasted forever.

He had once thought that it would be him and Ferb under the tree forever.

Before that, he had been certain that his dad would be around forever.

He fixed his eyes on you, walking back from class beside him. You didn't want to ride the underground Fun Mobile today; you had said you wanted to feel the autumn air. You looked radiant.

Were all beautiful things impermanent?

Was it possible that there were problems he couldn't solve with innovation and high spirits?

Historically, no.

No, he could make you stay with him. Make _sure_ you stayed with him; that was what he meant, right.

You caught him staring and smiled uncomfortably. He apologized, even though he wasn't sorry. That was a deceptive thing to do, to apologize when not sorry, and he normally wasn't a liar, but you were his project now. Keeping you was his project. Once he defined it that way, it wasn't wrong to be deceptive, or to sneak cameras into your room, or to use one of his supercomputers to obtain your medical records.

Starting that day, he was learning things about you that you didn't know about yourself.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment or message me on Tumblr if you want to see more! (Or just if you want to talk, honestly.)
> 
> I take requests for future yandere characters; I take commissions for stories. (So, you can request a character and premise, and I may or may not do it, or you can commission me to write something for you. I think you get it.)
> 
> My Tumblr is https://amityravenclawelf.tumblr.com


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